


got good energy in all of my chakras

by mockturtletale



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Dry Humping, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Miscommunication, PWP, Rimming, Sort Of, there is very very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25960399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockturtletale/pseuds/mockturtletale
Summary: they filmed four separate things today and did two live performances.namjoon made eye contact with yoongi once, by accident, and he’d blushed for an hour afterwards.
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga
Comments: 47
Kudos: 480





	got good energy in all of my chakras

**Author's Note:**

> this is another prompt fill for [lizbit](https://twitter.com/cookiehopes) who seems to have ... unleashed something in me? before yesterday i honestly thought myself incapable of writing both short fic and pwp. and today ... here we are. _thank you_. 
> 
> the prompt was: namgi's inability to make eye contact in public
> 
> and this is what i decided is at the root of that. 
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hwifighting) and / or on my [twit fic acc](https://twitter.com/mockturtletale) for more of this sort of thing, if you enjoy it!

they don’t actually talk about it, is the thing. 

and on the surface of it, that honestly surprises yoongi. 

generally speaking, he’s pretty at home with not talking about things. a lot of things that really don’t need to exist out loud take up an awful lot of yoongi’s time, so when he gets the chance to not use up what precious little time he has with things that don’t need to be said the same way only slightly different eighty four times over the course of six days, yoongi very often chooses to take the silence that he thinks of as rightfully his and earned a hundred thousand times over.

but namjoon likes to talk. 

and that’s different, because namjoon actually knows how to use his words for a purpose. namjoon is just as much an artist with the things he says as he is about how he says them, so yoongi doesn’t mind listening to him. kind of the opposite, actually. sometimes yoongi thinks that he’s so good at being quiet because namjoon is so good at filling otherwise dead air with something that sparks life. and maybe it’s the other way around, but however it works - it does. 

so it’s fair to say that yoongi feels a little like he’s standing with a foot on either side of a fault line now, when the earth quakes but namjoon doesn’t say a single thing about it. 

when yoongi thinks about it, he finds that he’s maybe been expecting this for years. or, no. he’s been wanting this for years, and he’s not exactly surprised when it happens, but there’s still a gap between that and expecting it. even if yoongi had been expecting it, he never would have thought that it might go down like this. 

‘like this’ is yoongi sitting in namjoon’s studio, sitting in namjoon’s desk chair. he’s here to help and that’s exactly what he does, so he doesn’t understand why when he looks from the screen to namjoon, namjoon is staring at him in something like shock. something that seems to skip in place for a beat, and then transitions into something else entirely. 

yoongi is already twisted around in his seat to look up at namjoon, so it’s easy for him to put his hand on the side of yoongi’s neck, his thumb digging in a little under yoongi’s chin to tilt it up high enough that when namjoon leans down, their mouths lock easily, the angle already perfect. 

yoongi opens his mouth, maybe to say something, maybe to ask a question, but then namjoon’s tongue is in his mouth and yoongi shocks himself with the sound he makes instead. namjoon answers him, the noise falling somewhere between a grunt and a growl and it’s so low, so perfectly, deeply _pleased_ that yoongi shocks himself again, only this time it’s with the way when his fists curl into the front of namjoon’s shirt even that isn’t enough for him, and he has to yank until namjoon bends down more, comes lower and closer. namjoon comes instantly, comes so easily when yoongi reaches for him, and his grip on yoongi gets tighter, his fingers pressing into the back of yoongi’s neck while they kiss like they’re starved for it, like they’ll never get the chance to do this again.

after years of nothing, this is a hundred moments that should have gone like this packed into one. packing a punch, when namjoon coaxes yoongi’s tongue into his mouth and then sucks at the tip of it, his mouth so soft, in total contrast to the way he’s holding yoongi in place, the way he’s breathing harshly through his nose, the sounds he makes sharp and breathless, cut off little slices of noise that cut yoongi to the bone. 

every bend of yoongi’s body is alive, every angle of him in action when he surges up out of his seat and namjoon helps him, gets him lifted up out of the seat without breaking the kiss and then gets yoongi lifted up into the air, his legs locking around namjoon’s waist when he’s held there, namjoon’s hands big and warm up under his thighs and then greedy, restless for the curve of yoongi’s ass in them. 

it ends just like it began; out of absolutely nowhere. 

one minute yoongi is licking across namjoon’s teeth and then pulling back to suck at his fat bottom lip until namjoon whimpers, and then namjoon has yoongi’s mouth open so wide for him that yoongi’s jaw cracks, but it doesn’t matter because their tongues feel so good together that yoongi gets caught unawares when namjoon curls the tips of his fingers down into the back pockets of yoongi’s jeans and uses them to pull yoongi in against him and oh, they’re both hard. 

that’s namjoon’s cock that’s pressing against yoongi’s, both of them straining in their jeans and namjoon is holding him still, pulling yoongi’s hips in and then grinding forward against him and yoongi’s heels are digging into the backs of namjoon’s thighs and it hurts but it also feels fucking incredible and it’s namjoon, so when he goes completely still and makes an anguished sound against yoongi’s mouth, yoongi’s brain shuts off. his knees tighten around namjoon’s hips and he locks one arm around namjoon’s neck, the other still knotted in namjoon’s shirt to keep him close, and it absolutely blows yoongi’s mind, how namjoon’s mouth is still so soft for him, the kiss hot and slow, when namjoon himself is all strength where he stands, solid muscle between yoongi’s legs, underneath his hands. 

it should be strange, coming in his boxers when he’s essentially in mid air, but namjoon’s forearms are sturdy under his thighs, his mouth gentle and soothing against yoongi’s when yoongi shakes apart in his arms. 

and then they … don’t talk about it. 

yoongi rests his forehead against namjoon’s shoulder, the pounding of namjoon’s heart under yoongi’s fist a metronome that yoongi uses to slow his breathing back to normal, and when he lifts his head again, namjoon seeks him out for another kiss, an unbearably sweet one, this time, and then he’s carefully helping yoongi back to his feet. 

yoongi is still kind of dazed when namjoon gently pushes him back down into his chair and then gets on his knees between yoongi’s legs, looking up into his face to check that it’s okay when he pops the button on yoongi’s jean and then pulls them open and down a little, when yoongi nods. he slowly, methodically cleans yoongi’s come off his dick with the wet wipes he reaches for, and yoongi isn’t even completely soft yet, but he really doesn’t think that’s an adequate enough excuse for how he starts to get hard again, the sensation of it almost painful but not quite in a way that makes yoongi’s brain feel so pleasantly static filled. 

namjoon curls his fingers into the waistband of yoongi’s jeans, pulled down to the tops of his thighs, and when he looks up at yoongi, sucking at his bottom lip, yoongi is nodding again even though namjoon didn’t ask him anything. not really. except for how he did, because as soon as yoongi nods, he’s nosing in under the shaft of yoongi’s cock, his tongue hot and wet on yoongi’s balls. it’s still so much, still too soon, but pushing his hands down under the neckline of namjoon’s tshirt and touching the warm, smooth skin at the back of his neck helps. it does a lot for yoongi, and then namjoon is licking up along the underside of yoongi’s cock and his knees are pushing as far apart as they can because he wants namjoon closer, he wants him so much closer, and then he’s slumped in namjoon’s studio chair with his thighs held wide open by namjoon’s broad shoulders and his hands are stacked up on the back of namjoon’s neck, his fingers locked together and he doesn’t push, he can’t bear to, but namjoon makes it so he doesn’t have to, anyway. 

he sucks yoongi’s cock enthusiastically, his nose pressed to the round of yoongi’s pelvis so he can swallow around the head, his throat soft and sucking around yoongi and it’s almost too much, the way he drags the point of his tongue along the vein that runs up along the side of yoongi’s cock when he pulls off. he dips his tongue into the slit and then drops his mouth again, his lips sucking around the head while his hand works the shaft and when he brings his other hand up to cup under yoongi’s balls and lifts his eyes to meet yoongi’s, something incredibly intense blazing there, it’s finally too much and yoongi comes again. 

when namjoon opens his mouth to lick up the come that spills out of it, his tongue is covered in white and yoongi jerks again, everything in him wound up still, his pulse hammering in his chest, between his legs. 

and still, namjoon doesn’t say anything. 

he rests his head on yoongi’s thigh and reaches down to yank his own jeans open. he jerks himself off just like that, his forearm flexing so prettily, his mouth pressed to the inside of yoongi’s thigh to muffle the sounds he makes, and yoongi wants to hear him, wants to get on the floor next to him and wring all kinds of noises out of him, but namjoon shakes his head when yoongi tries to move. he clamps his free hand around yoongi’s knee to keep him where he is, and yoongi has no choice but to sit there, still buzzing from two orgasms, while namjoon jerks himself off with his own come because not even fifteen minutes ago he came in his own boxers just from holding yoongi up in the air and grinding their dicks together between them. 

when namjoon comes again he sets his teeth against the muscle of the inside of yoongi’s thigh, the bite stinging enough that yoongi and he cry out together and yoongi’s hand - still on the back of namjoon’s neck - pushes up into his hair, needing to feel more of him, wanting to hold him through it, when he gives up control, on his knees in front of yoongi. 

when namjoon lifts his head to look at yoongi again, he does it slowly. he looks unsteady, and not just because his chest is still rising and falling under too big, too quick breaths and it feels like he stops breathing at all when yoongi cups his face in both of his hands and leans down to kiss him again, because he misses it already. 

namjoon pauses, his eyes falling to yoongi’s mouth and his eyebrows furrowing. he brings a hand to his own mouth, two fingers pressed to his own bottom lip, and yoongi gets it, but he doesn’t give a fuck. namjoon stays where he is, looking between yoongi’s eyes and his lips but he makes no move to kiss yoongi until yoongi leans in the rest of the way. then his eyes slip shut and his mouth meets yoongi’s with his lips already parted, and he lets yoongi lick the taste of his own come off his tongue. 

they kiss for longer, this time. they’ve both come twice and still neither of them have said a word, but namjoon lets yoongi slide down off the chair now, so they’re both sitting on the floor of namjoon’s studio, cross legged and leaning in to kiss over the cross of their arms, namjoon holding yoongi by the waist and yoongi leaning some of his weight on namjoon with his hands high up on namjoon’s thighs. 

eventually, the kiss becomes so slow that it feels like that moment when you’re awake but already have one foot in sleep. when you’re not asleep, but you’re not awake either, not really. you’re both and you are neither. yoongi can’t remember what it feels like to use his mouth to talk. he can’t remember what his mouth feels like when it’s not moving against namjoon’s. he can’t for the life of him remember why they’ve never done this before today. 

yoongi helps namjoon clean himself up, and when namjoon smiles at him it washes up over his face like a wave. it dawns like a sun; his mouth a horizon for it. 

they get back to work and that part is easy, because it always has been, for the two of them. 

but then they part ways, and that’s where yoongi thinks they must have made a mistake, because it’s only been a few hours, but they’re back together in the same room again now and namjoon won’t look at him. 

they’re getting dressed and made up for an interview they’re filming for some american radio station and yoongi only realizes when he doesn’t get it that he always looks to namjoon for some kind of reassurance before they do things like this. 

namjoon is all the way across the room, letting jungkook and taehyung tug at him and play with his hair and take upshot pictures of his nostrils and none of that is especially unusual, but what’s not right about this scene is how namjoon doesn’t look in yoongi’s direction. not even once. and yoongi would know, because he’s not looking at anyone except namjoon. 

the interview is fine, which is to say that it’s as frustrating and irritating and mildly degrading as these things always are, no more and no less, and then they’re hustled off camera to hand back their outfits and sort away their accessories. and now it’s just them, all of them slowly pulling their own clothes back on, wiping off their make-up and brushing out hairspray and mercilessly teasing one another for the things they’d just willingly made public as usual. 

and still, namjoon won’t look at yoongi. 

during the interview, yoongi directly mentioned him twice. spoke to him three times. he’d looked at namjoon for all of that, looked at him a whole lot besides, as well, but namjoon hasn’t met his eyes even once since earlier on today. since he’d made himself vulnerable for yoongi, bared himself to him, and then walked yoongi out of his studio and decided by himself that something had changed, because nothing has changed for yoongi. 

yoongi didn’t know that what happened between them was going to happen, but he’d wanted it to. he’s been wanting it to. he still wants it, now. 

right before they leave to head to a fitting for their next comeback, yoongi reaches for namjoon. he gets his hand banded around namjoon’s wrist and namjoon looks down at yoongi’s fingers wrapped around the bones of his wrist but he doesn’t look up into yoongi’s face. he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t try to shake yoongi off, but still, he won’t look at him. 

the bangtan bomb noona is flitting around between them when they’re dressed up in this next set of stage outfits and taehyung and seokjin round on yoongi to clown him for the mostly see through sleeves he’s wearing and everyone is laughing, except for namjoon. except for yoongi. 

it doesn’t escape anyone’s notice, that something is off between them, and yoongi isn’t even slightly surprised to find himself hip checked into the wrong car when they split apart in the parking lot. he knows as he watches hoseok climb into his spot in the car he’d come in that when he climbs into the one next to him, he’s going to find namjoon inside. 

and that happens to really work for yoongi. 

“so - what the fuck?” yoongi asks when namjoon pretends to fuss with his seatbelt as soon as he sees him. 

“um,” namjoon says, and it’s probably dumb that all this does is remind yoongi that he’s missed hearing namjoon’s voice when he’s only talking to him. it’s only been a matter of hours. 

“was - did something happen, after we -” yoongi feels like an idiot all over again, but he can’t bring himself to say it. not when he doesn’t know how namjoon feels about it, yet. not until he knows what it meant to namjoon and why he’s being like this, now. 

“no!” namjoon says, too quick and too loud, looking to startle himself as well as yoongi. “nothing happened. i just … i started thinking, and i …” 

“do you regret it? is that what’s wrong?” because yoongi would be crushed, but he’d find a way to cope. nothing would ever get in the way of the group, not even this, and he’d thought namjoon would know that about him. about them. 

“ _no_ , hyung,” namjoon sounds pained, sounds panicked, and yoongi doesn’t understand what the problem is, he can’t see why - “it’s the opposite of that. it’s - i’m sorry, hyung.” 

“you don’t regret it? but you’re sorry? what are you sorry for, namjoon-ah?” yoongi’s been dressed up and stripped down multiple times already today, but he still feels undone by what had happened in namjoon’s studio. he feels like he left some part of himself back there that he’ll never get back and he doesn’t mind that, he doesn’t want or need whatever it is if the alternative is getting to have namjoon, but he feels the loss of it, new enough to be keen still. 

“i’m sorry because i just -” namjoon rakes his hand through his hair, turning slightly in his seat to face yoongi better, because whatever you want to say about namjoon, he’s never for one second been a coward. “i just - couldn’t help myself. i’ve kept this under wraps for so long and it just fucking exploded out of me today, hyung, and i didn’t mean for that to happen. i didn’t want to put this on you.” 

he lowers his eyes again when he’s finished speaking. and then his eyes go wide when yoongi reaches out to tip his chin up again, to make namjoon look at him. 

“namjoon-ah, all you put on me was yourself,” not quite the way yoongi would have liked, because he really, really wanted to suck namjoon’s cock and it still kind of rankles that he didn’t get to, but nothing about what happened was in and of itself not to yoongi’s liking. his loving, actually. “did it seem like i wasn’t on board with that? was it someone else that i basically climbed in your studio earlier today? because if it was, you’ve got a doppelganger and he owes you two orgasms.” 

the thought of two namjoons threatens to stop yoongi in his tracks, but he quickly bypasses it. 

“it doesn’t have to happen again if you don’t want it to,” he tells namjoon, his thumb rubbing at the point of namjoon’s chin because it’s there and he wants to. “but nothing happened that i wouldn’t have asked you for, if i’d thought i could have it.” 

namjoon’s voice is rough, when he speaks. 

“you could have had it, hyung. you could have had it whenever you wanted.” 

“and what about now? can i still have it?” yoongi asks, his gazes falling to namjoon’s mouth now because he can’t help it. he wants. he wants so much. 

namjoon is still nodding when yoongi leans in across the seats to kiss him, and when the car starts to move it rounds a corner that almost tips yoongi over into namjoon’s lap. namjoon laughs at him, the sound of it light, and then he pushes yoongi back into his own seat so he can reach past him and click his seatbelt into place for him. 

“it just kind of … caught me by surprise,” namjoon explains when they get home, when yoongi grabs him by the wrist again and tows namjoon after him until he can close his bedroom door behind the two of them. “it’s always worse when you’ve got your hands on my equipment and are doing that genius thing you do where you fix problems i don’t even know how i created, but today i just couldn’t stop myself.” 

“yeah, i got that,” yoongi says, nodding while he looks at the lines of namjoon’s collarbone underneath his tshirt. “if it helps, i don’t always feel especially composed when you’ve got your hands on my equipment either,” his grin is sharp enough to make namjoon blush, and this makes yoongi feel incredibly accomplished, for some reason. 

this time around, yoongi gets to suck namjoon’s cock. he gets to feel namjoon get hard in his mouth until he’s spilling pre-come across his tongue, and then he lets namjoon spill lube down over his cock and balls to pool between his thighs when he presses them together for namjoon to fuck. namjoon can’t seem to shut up now, can’t seem to keep his mouth closed for even a second, and yoongi really doesn’t mind lying there underneath namjoon and listening to him tell yoongi from between clenched teeth just how often he’s thought about this, how many different ways he’s thought about fucking yoongi, wants to get fucked by him. after they clean up, they climb back into bed together, on clean sheets now, and yoongi sits up against the pillows, namjoon big and lovely in his lap when they kiss and talk for hours, namjoon’s hands in yoongi’s hair and yoongi’s hands running up and down the line of namjoon’s spine like the vertebrae that yoongi can’t see are a row of piano keys he can somehow feel. 

the next day, they have a radio interview, and namjoon sits next to yoongi of his own accord, but yet again he can’t make eye contact with him. can’t look at yoongi even when yoongi looks directly at him. 

this time, though, yoongi knows exactly what’s going on in namjoon’s head. 

this time, yoongi’s got his hand pressed high up around namjoon’s thigh under the desk, and he can feel the tension in him, feels the way he squirms when yoongi says something into the mic, his voice pitched low on purpose and his bottom lip pressed against the mic cover specifically and solely to fuck with namjoon. 

later on, yoongi will ask why it’s only when there’s cameras on them that namjoon develops the ability to feel something like shyness, because he’s certainly not shy in yoongi’s bed. or in his bed. or in taehyung’s bathroom, that one time. he’s as far from shy as yoongi thinks it’s possible to get, when yoongi walks into the kitchen wearing just namjoon’s tshirt and makes the mistake of stretching up on his toes to reach for a mug. there’s something very distinctly un-shy about how namjoon silently rises from the table and bends yoongi over the kitchen counter with a hand hot at the back of his neck so he can go to his knees between yoongi’s legs and eat yoongi out against their kitchen cupboards, fuck him just like that until yoongi cries out for him and calls him ‘baby’ and namjoon comes so hard he grunts like he’s winded by it. 

“i can’t control my face around you,” namjoon explains, and that makes sense to yoongi. 

he’s always struggled with keeping what he’s feeling off his features, and yoongi has always loved that about him. he loves getting to see just how quickly he can fluster him, how easy he is to rile up no matter where they are or what they’re doing. one pointed look from yoongi and namjoon is tripping over his words and blushing but it’s a power that yoongi tries to yield responsibly, so he doesn’t understand why namjoon doesn’t feel more at ease when there’s cameras trained on them. not even yoongi would be so mean. most of the time. 

“it makes it worse, knowing that i can’t think about it. it’s fine, when i know that if i start thinking about you, worst case scenario i can go find you or jerk off thinking about you, but i know that i absolutely cannot think about you when there’s a camera on me or someone’s watching me. and that makes it so much harder not to.” 

namjoon’s brain does sometimes seem to do the utmost to work against itself, actively so, even, so yoongi gets that, he supposes. 

the next time they’re sitting in front of a line of cameras, yoongi winks at namjoon. 

and namjoon breaks the arm of the chair he’s sitting on. 

as soon as they get back to the apartment, namjoon picks yoongi up and tosses him down onto his bed, stripping his shirt off before he follows him and not letting yoongi up again until he’s wrung five orgasms out of him in what he calls ‘repayment.’ 

with tear tracks still running from his eyes into the hair above his ears, yoongi reaches for namjoon with both hands and tells him exactly how much he approves of namjoon’s method. 

he tells him with his mouth on namjoon’s cock, and then with his fingers pressed up inside namjoon’s ass to open him up for yoongi to fuck him, when he begs for it. 

he tells him with his forehead against the back of namjoon’s neck, his mouth pressed between namjoon’s shoulderblades, and namjoon clenching down around him as he comes on yoongi’s cock and then insists on staying there, yoongi’s cock slowly softening inside him while namjoon works himself to another orgasm talking incredibly dirty about exactly what he’d like to do to yoongi in front of a camera, in front of an audience, in front of anyone who cared to stop and look. 

it’s a long, long time before namjoon can comfortably make eye contact with yoongi when there’s a camera on them or people are watching. 

or, well, yoongi assumes it will be. 

because it certainly hasn’t happened yet. 

and it’s not going to happen anytime soon, if yoongi has any say in it. 

namjoon blushes far too prettily, and yoongi is still having way too much fun. 

“i’ll stop, if you want me to,” yoongi tells him, because they talk about everything, now. they’ll never make that mistake again, though they still managed to make it work out well for them in the end. 

namjoon makes eye contact with yoongi’s reflection in the mirror, because yoongi is currently fucking him against a countertop in their building’s basement bathroom, namjoon leaning down onto his elbows with his knees bent to get low for yoongi. 

they filmed four separate things today and did two live performances. namjoon made eye contact with yoongi once, by accident, and he’d blushed for an hour afterwards. 

( tomorrow, a slew of articles will be published questioning whether yoongi can no longer accept that someone younger than him is his leader, and is making things difficult for namjoon behind the scenes, if they’re this awkward in front of the public. jimin will laugh until he chokes. )

namjoon reaches back to grab yoongi’s ass and pulls him in, pushing back to fuck himself on yoongi’s cock. 

“don’t you dare, hyung,” namjoon snarls, and his elbows fall out from under him when yoongi holds him by both hips and starts to properly fuck him, hard and just as slow as he knows namjoon likes. 

when they’re both hastily cleaned up and lying on their backs out on the dance studio floor, the whole building empty besides them, probably, the city feeling quiet somehow, from in here, yoongi repeats himself. 

“i was serious,” he says, turning his head to look at namjoon, starfished out across the wooden floor next to him. “i know i don’t always fuck with you when there’s people watching, but i can promise not to do it ever if the fear of it is putting you on edge.” 

“nah,” namjoon says, rolling up onto his side so he can reach out and run his fingers down along the line of yoongi’s jaw. he smiles when yoongi tries to bite his thumb. “it’s a good edge. plus, there’s literally nothing you could say or do to change the way i get in front of the cameras. if you’re in the room, i’m on eggshells. before, it was because i was afraid people would take one look at my face when i talk about you and know that i’m in love with you.”

yoongi blinks at him. and then he doesn’t blink for what feels like a very long time. but in the meantime, namjoon has gone on. 

“ - now it’s because i can’t look at your face and not think about how good you look licking my come off your lips. i’m resigned to my fate. it’s fine.” 

when yoongi doesn’t say anything, namjoon’s eyes lift from where they’d been watching his own hand splay across yoongi’s collarbones. 

“unless it’s not fine? if you think it’s making us look unprofessional, i can -” 

yoongi pounces. 

he pins namjoon down, his shoulders pressed to the floor, and yoongi’s knees on either side of his waist. 

when he bends down to kiss namjoon, namjoon looks confused, but goes with it. 

“you just told me you love me,” yoongi tells him, incredulous, and namjoon squints at him so hard that for a second, yoongi wonders if he’d been hearing things. 

“but i - didn’t i already say that? the first time, in my studio?” 

and now yoongi is even more incredulous. 

“uh, no,” he tells namjoon. “no you didn’t. in fact, you didn’t say a single word.” 

namjoon seems to think about this, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. and then he shrugs, and reaches up to pull yoongi back down. 

“i honestly thought i ran my mouth that whole time, but i guess i was confusing words for thoughts again, because the whole time i was touching you, for every second that i was kissing you, i was thinking about how much i’m in love with you.” 

yoongi’s soul - or whatever is left of it - rattles inside him for a moment, for a handful of very loud beats, but then namjoon’s hands are falling to his hips and his mouth is moving against yoongi’s in a way that actually does say a lot, now that yoongi knows to look for it. there’s nothing new about the way they’re kissing now, but that only makes yoongi understand a whole lot more. 

“i love you too,” yoongi says, and namjoon grins at him like he’s pleased but not especially surprised to hear this. god, this boy. “but the next time you wear shorts on camera, i’m going to do my absolute best to put my hand up inside them, just so you know.” 

“cool,” namjoon breathes, still smiling, “i’m totally down, once you hold my hand and call me your baby once for every minute that you publicly torture me.” 

“you,” yoongi says, brushing namjoon’s hair back out of his face and then reaching to tangle their fingers together, “have yourself a deal, my pretty baby.” 

“ooh, one in the bank. you’re really gonna make me suffer, huh hyung?” 

yoongi grins down at him and goes with it when namjoon pushes his knees out from under him to get him spread out on top of namjoon. 

“very, very much so,” yoongi says, and when he leans into this kiss, namjoon huffs a laugh against his mouth. 

( two months after the rush of articles about discord between the members, someone posts a zoomed in clip from their latest bangtan bomb that seems to show yoongi slipping his hand up inside the leg of namjoon’s shorts. two days after that, after forty eight hours of straight analysis, their fans conclude that the mark just barely visible under yoongi’s hand in the video is a insect bite, and that yoongi was being a good hyung by saving his leader from a bug attack. ) 

(( it’s a bite mark. and yoongi was - as he’d promised - copping a feel. )) 

((( this time, jimin laughs so hard he almost pukes. )))


End file.
